The
Umbrella Story
It
was drizzling when my friends and I went to Shamsunnahar
hall to meet a senior apa. But after seeing the
rules and regulations of the hall, only one of
my friends went inside and two other were gossiping
in the waiting room. While chatting, we noticed
a dadu (peon) sitting just beside us. When our
friend returned we came out and forgot to take
the umbrella we kept on the table. The next day,
when we asked all dadus there about my umbrella
they denied to see it. Then we asked them about
that dadu and gave them the full description of
him but they pretended not to even know him. But
I was desperate, as this was not the only umbrella
I lost, but every member of my family lost at
least one umbrella at one time. We were determined
to find him and thus kept waiting. But even after
an hour he didn't show up. So, when we wanted
to hang a notice in the notice board and told
a dadu about it, he feigned not to recognise us
though we had talked 10 minutes ago. Be on your
guard if you decide to venture to Shasunnahar
hall, particularly when you are carrying an umbrella.
Farhana Tahsin, DU
No
link...no work... no bribe...
In
today's age of information technology, land phone
should be rather a right to every citizen. In
Spain, you inform the authority office at noon
about your necessity of a phone, they come up
with the wires and telephone set in the evening
and you get your connection that very evening.
But for the Dhakaites it is well known and well
experienced that getting a land phone connection
is like becoming the owner of a shonar horin (golden
deer). If you have applied for the connection
in your youth, your grandsons might get the connection
at their young age. Keeping in mind all the hurdles
I would have to cross in becoming the owner of
a golden deer-- the valuable- phone, I ventured
for a land phone for smooth functioning of my
literary magazine office at the city's Farmgate
area. After paying the money against the demand
note, obviously experiencing a great deal of hassles,
I went to the Shere- E- Bangle Nagar exchange
for collecting my advice number. It was around
12: 30 pm and I thought that ten minutes was enough
for me to complete the task. But they took, to
my utter surprise, at least 2 hours just to give
me an advice number. First they said they couldn't
give the advice number to me because they didn't
have advice book at their table at that time.
I was not willing to make them happy with bribe,
feeling utterly helpless, I called a senior at
the IBA who was working in the same office and
asked for his help. My helpful senior advised
me to meet the Assistant General Manager. The
AGM told me to send him the person- in -charge
for providing voice number. This time when I met
the person- in- charge he started feeling nervous
and obviously he valued me highly. His voice was
changed, from a rude to polite one, and he became
the most gentle and dutiful person on the mother
earth. It took only fifteen minutes to get my
works done.
Md. Ashequl Islam, IBA Hostel, Dhaka
On
being a Noakhalia
In
Joe D.Silva's article titled "On being a
Noakhaila" he wrote, “Because of this aspersion
'sad to say', we people from Noakhali never admitted
openly that we were from there". I want to
deny this claim. I am proud that I am from Noakhali.
My father was born in Noakhali and so, I am originally
from Noakhali. A friend of mine who now lives
in the US always says that he is from Comilla,
even though he is originally from Noakhali. He
was ashamed of his village home. But that was
not the case with me. As I grew up, I entered
Chittagong Govt. College of Commerce. The people
in Chittagong called the Noakhalia people 'Japani'.
Why, I never knew. The stated that since I was
born and brought up in Dhaka, I was Dhakaiya but
I would not let them decide on my identity. As
I was doing my B.Com. in Dhaka University, our
class went to the then West Pakistan in a good
will tour. During the tour we were in a beach
where we met a paan walla. We chatted with him
for a while and got to know that he too was from
the same 'desh' as me. He gave us all complementary
paans. I still remember the fellow feeling of
being a 'deshi'.
Waliur Rahman, Dhaka
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